Salim had decided not to worry about the strange lynxess at the edge of his territory for the day, and after satisfying his hunger with a thin and extremely emaciated hare, at least enough to stop his stomach from rumbling, he trotted to the graves of his two cubs and their mother once more that day.
The trees surrounding the clearing where he had buried them stretched high into the freezing air, and the lynx suspected that the roots reached as deep into the earth as the branches reached up into the sky. Perhaps they had already clung to the bodies, holding them close and embracing them, and Salim hoped that the trees welcomed his deceased. A thick layer of snow still covered the ground, and Salim could only guess where Akuma and Miles were buried, but the approximation was enough for him in this case.
He almost looked for Valja's grave underneath but managed to stop himself at the last moment. Even if she wasn't dead, she was gone forever, and it was almost as if she had followed his other two cubs. Nothing could bring her back to him, even though he wanted her so much, her warm body snuggled up to him in his sleep. At the beginning of her life, she had been very small, but over time the lynxess had grown and radiated more and more warmth and love. He missed her.
Salim sighed deeply after sitting at the grave of the three lynxes for countless heartbeats. Nothing would be able to bring them back, not even his cloudy thoughts. And even though he knew this better than anyone else, he simply could not tear himself away from his loved ones. It was as if they had cast a spell over him, ensnared him so that he no longer wanted to or could get rid of them. They had ensnared him with longing and grief like a web and he had not fled when he still had the chance.
The lynx quickly rose from his seat and left the clearing. He wanted to get rid of these worries and grief, he would almost have given anything to do so, but it was simply impossible for him. No matter what he did, these feelings always caught up with him and caused his mood to join the dead.
His paws almost flew over the snow as he started to run to get rid of his thoughts through the headwind. And indeed, it seemed to help to some extent, even if he still felt haunted by his grief, the wind freed him. The way it brushed through his fur and made it flutter, his howling got his ears going and cleared his muzzle again. It was a wonderful feeling when he could fly freely through his territory.
Salim flew unchecked around several conifers that were still full of leaves and dotted with bare deciduous trees, leaping through snow-covered bushes and shrubs and scaring off a squirrel or two that had set foot on the ground in search of nuts. In the distance, he caught sight of the frozen lake, which reflected the sun with a glitter and gave him a pleasant glare. But he couldn't hear it, because the creaking ice remained silent when no one stepped on it.
But he could hear something else, which made him stop moving immediately, causing him to slip and slide between the trees until he finally came to a halt on the bark of a pine tree.
Salim groaned briefly as he hit the wood and contorted his face in pain. Not a soft landing, not at all. But he quickly regained his composure, even if his head was still pounding, and he picked himself up again.
The strong stench of the Baldskins penetrated his snout and the lynx tried to inhale as little of the smell as possible, which turned out to be impossible. Fortunately, he had reacted quickly, if his landing could be described as such. A few trees further on, he could already make out the path of these strange creatures, which had been trampled flat and cleared of snow. If he had slipped into their path... It was unthinkable what would have happened.
He was about to turn away, but then something caught his eye that was almost lost in all the scents of the forest. Salim didn't know how it was possible, but in the middle of the path he could make out the fine stems of a plant. Normally this would have been absolutely nothing special, but this structure was clearly broadleaf plantain, the healing plant that Freya would so like to have to treat the wound he had inflicted on her.
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The lynx hesitated and looked at the herb, which stretched in a straight line from west to east, as if daring him to jump onto the path and chase away all the Baldskins, just to pluck it and hand it to Freya. It seemed crazy. It was crazy. To go where he was almost certainly doomed to die if he was discovered? On the other hand, he was responsible for her injury, and it was only because of him that the wound on her cheek was now gaping. Normally, there was hardly anyone out here at this time, especially in this cold, although the lake was also tempting for the Baldkins to swim in it.
Salim grimaced as if he already regretted doing what he had decided to do. The lynx walked slowly to the edge of the path and strained his ears. This was a bad idea, but only in the distance could the faint voices of the creatures, that normally took the path, be heard. Their scent wafted over to him and although it was fresh, its origin was still far away.
“Don't be a hare”, the lynx muttered, taking a deep breath. Hopefully no one would discover him. With this thought, he placed his first paw on the snow-free ground and the remaining three followed. Salim took a deep breath. He had made it, but he was still standing on the edge and could barely be seen.
He crouched down on the ground and quickly crept to the middle of the path. A long line of different plants stretched out in front of him and in the middle of the mixture he could make out the broad leaves and thin stems of the plant he was looking for. With teeth and claws, he tore and cut off the individual stalks of the broad plantain. The smell of it clouded his snout and tensely he turned his ears in all directions to get an early warning of danger. Without his sense of smell, he felt vulnerable and inaccessible. He absolutely could not risk being discovered and attacked here in an open area and on the territory of the Baldskins. He would have no chance against them, and he would have been finished off within a few heartbeats.
But despite all his ominous fears, Salim made it safely back into the forest. He immediately sent a silent prayer to the heavens, thanking the weather, the cold and the deceased for not letting him fall into the clutches of death.
As fast as his legs would allow, he ran across his territory to get to the south side of where the lynxess’ territory lay. Salim suppressed the thoughts that forced themselves upon him and asked him why he had taken such a risk. It had been stupid of him, and he swore he would never do anything like that again.
The only problem was that this was the second time today he'd been hanging around her border and Freya would probably take it all wrong. He didn't want or need a new expansion of his territory, for he had as much as he needed and could defend. He paused briefly in his run, almost aborting his plan with this mental objection, but then he decided to bring her the herbs after all. If the wound became infected, he would never forgive himself. After all, he already had the healing plant with him.
It didn't take Salim long to reach the hazelnut bush, where they had met several times before. But he didn't dare cross the border and look for Freya. It seemed far too risky, and the lynxess would interpret his help as an attempt to break in and kill him immediately.
Instead, the lynx stretched his mouth, in which he was carrying the stalks, to her side of the snow and placed the medicinal herb there. He quickly retreated a few steps to avoid being ambushed. He looked at the forest, then at the spot where the plant now lay. Hopefully she would find it and recognize it as useful.
When the lynx turned around again, a small smile played on his lips.